Sobrevivire
by davidvantas
Summary: "The android wasn't meant to be alive, and it definitely wasn't meant to think that it was. It asked too many questions. He asked too many questions." Android AU, eventual Dave/Karkat. Rated M just in case.
1. Chapter 1

hi, ok. i guess you're supposed to put an authors note here, so i'll do that!

this was inspired by the video 'kara' and you should probably look that up before watching this because it's a beautiful video, but it's not necessary. yeah and im not andrew hussie so these aren't my characters

only the AU belongs to me

* * *

There was something different about this one. There was something odd about the way his face moved into confusion when he was asked if his ears were functioning, if he could hear him. It was an unfamiliar look, unlike the other prototype's more indifferent expressions. When asked if he could see, he nodded without any hesitance.

He asked him to introduce himself, and the robot in front of him blinked. He repeated the question, tapping his pen on the desk in front of him twice. "Your introduction, pleathe."

"I recognize that you have a lisp." The android replied, blatantly disobeying the order. "I have a basic knowledge of speech impediments. What caused yours?" He looked around the room, eyes darting in every direction.

"I athked for your introduction, not for converthathion." His fingers slid and typed over the keyboards in front of him, taking notes on how he functions. "Tho, like I athked, your introduction, pleathe."

The droid nodded as a few machines tweaked with him, "I am the fifth generation Employ. I am a beta program, but I have been released to test with those who have signed up for such a program. I figure you are one of them?"

Sollux leaned forward and muttered into the microphone, "No, I am a dethigner and a coder. I programmed your mind. I am tethting you to thee if I methed up at any point, and if you do not path the tetht, I will be forthed to retry."

"What are my tests?"

"Tell me your ID and your purpothe."

The droid cleared his throat, though there was no purpose in doing so. He looked nearly alive, eyes lidded as he continued to search the room, though less frantically now. "I am model CCR69. I am a multipurpose android whose features include knowledge of multiple subjects and the ability to speak in both Alternian and Earth languages. I can do the errands, the chores around the home, feed you, and watch any offspring you may have. This is assuming, of course, that you're a human. I have a high memory function that allows me to recognize who you are and what your appointments are."

A noise of acceptance filled the factory room from the speakers that the droid seems to had noted, as he spoke to them.

"I recharge when I go into a catatonic state similar to sleeping, but this is only a two hour process and must only be done every three to four weeks. I have no need to eat or drink, though I am waterproof. I am a bot to your disposal and I serve any purpose you wish me to. In all honesty, I'm mostly a servant to allow you to let diabetes and childhood obesity take over in your young ones, with your blatant laziness and inability to raise them yourself. Would you like to give me a name?"

And then, a noise of a choked back laugh came after it, and the sound of furious tapping followed that. "No, I'm thorry. You were doing good, but I think there'th a few kinkth in your data. You're too thentient. There'th too many moral problemth with artificial intelligenth, and I have to be the one who preventh that kind of ethponential occurrence."

Model CCR69's eyes squint closed at this statement. "So, as you said earlier, this means you must retry with me? May I ask what that entails?" A flash of fear looked to have flicked through his eyes, but that might had been a trick of the mind.

Their eyes were highly realistic and they had the ability to show emotions as to make themselves seem more sentient, but there wasn't meant to be any actual emotion behind them.

There was a silence, and it filled the space between the two of them. Though one was in another room, it seemed to spread through the walls. "I have to take you apart and reprogram your memory componanth."

"Will I still be me?"

"You athk too many quethtionth, hath anyone told you that?" The machines gripped onto the android with a few pressed buttons.

"I haven't been alive long enough to be told that. So, I suppose, no, nobody has told me that. Except for you. I suppose you will be the last to say it, though. So, may I know your name?" The android appeared to look directly into the camera, and Sollux wouldn't be shocked if he had detected where it was by now. The words struck him, though.

_I haven't been alive long enough.  
_

"Thollukth. Without the lithp."

The android wasn't meant to be alive, and it definitely wasn't meant to think that it was. It asked too many questions. He asked too many questions. He stared at the computer screen that he was viewing the android on, watched as the machines started to shut him down.

"I don't want to die, Sollux."

Sollux hit the abort button. The machines stopped. The air seemed to freeze as he withdrew the breath he didn't realize he was holding. CCR69 looked at the machines, watching them slow to a stop. He moved his hand to run his fingers over the factory steel, and then pulled them away back to himself, clearly confused beyond comprehension. "They stopped moving."

"Yeth, they did." Sollux slumped in his chair. He was a troll, he wasn't supposed to have any kind of sympathy for someone so pathetic sounding. He groaned, and got up from his chair, taking the earset with him. "Are you hothtile?" There was no answer, "Are you hothtile."

"I shook my head no. Is that not a reasonable response?"

"I'm not looking at the thcreen anymore." He left the office of the factory, going down a set of stairs. "We're moving onto the next thet of tethts. I'm going to thee if you're compatible with a living perthon, I have pthionicth and my friend and bodyguard Equiuth loveth to punch roboth, tho if you're planning anything, don't."

Opening the door to look at the android, he was greeted with the sight of CCR69 sitting cross legged, staring at the door expectantly. As Sollux got closer, he began to retract away a bit. However, when shown that Sollux wasn't going to try to shut him down again, he stayed put. "What would you like me to do?"

"Reach out and touch my hand." He held his hand out, palm up. The android reached upward, trailing his fingers just lightly over the hand of the troll in front of him, as if he was worried if he applied any pressure that Sollux might break. "I'm not glath."

"I don't know what glath is." Sollux was about to correct him, to tell him he meant glass, when the android muttered, "you should attempt to reprogram yourself to learn how to speak." He squeezed Sollux's hand experimentally, and then pulled his hand back. "You are very weak."

"Look, atthole. I jutht thaved you from a premature end. I could go back up to my computer room and thhut you down ath eathy ath pie. Thpeaking of which, list the firth ten digith of pi." He stood in front of the android and wondered why he was sitting, but did not bother to ask.

"3.141592653." He responded, without hesitation.

Sollux nodded, and handed a two pens to him from his back pocket. "What do you do with these?"

The bot analyzed the objects given to him, before turning to look at his manufacturer. "These are just pens. A red pen and a blue pen. You most likely gave them to me because you wanted to get an answer like, 'write' or 'draw,' but there is a lot of things you can do with a pair of pens. Perhaps I would like to gauge your eyes out, one red for the red, one blue for the blue."

Before he could reply, the droid continued to speak.

"I won't, though. That would result in my head being torn out. Or, I could drum. Play a little beat on the floor. Entertain the children I am created to raise, or entertain the adults dumb enough to be entertained by meaningless drumming on a dirty floor." He twirled the pens in his hand. "Or, I could do tricks. I don't know what the correct answer to your question is, or the answer you're looking for, so I say 'a shit ton of things.'"

There was no more testing that Sollux needed to see. He grabbed the android by the arm, yanking him up. "You need to get out of here." He said, "You're too thmart to be thold ath a houthehold thervant, and murder wathn't on the top of my to-do litht today. If you thtay here, they'll either force me to take you apart, or take you apart themthelveth."

"Where do I go?" The droid grabbed his wrist, and he yanked it away. "I am a droid without a master. I do not have anyone to go with."

"I don't have the room to houthe an android. I work here ath a coder, but I don't have a thtable budget right now. You might need to be independent for a bit, and you're highly thelf thufficient. You'll be fine."

"Of course I will be fine, I just don't have shelter." CCR69 stared, looked to the door, and stood up. He held out his hand, and Sollux assumed that he was waiting for a handshake, so he extended his in return. However, when their palms connected, he was rewarded with his two pens. "I think by allowing me to be leaving, you are robbing your company. The least you can do is save the pens. You never know when you'll need them. Maybe you'll gauge your own eyes out if you get fired or arrested."

Sollux looked down at the pens, hooking the caps together idly. Then, he looked back up, and looked the droid in the eyes. "You're a bit of a prick, aren't you?"

"You programmed my mind, didn't you? I suppose in the most factual sense, I learn from the best."

"Touthé."

"Touché."

He glared at the android, but held his index finger up, and left the room. When he came back, he had a handful of clothes he had stocked for when he stayed overnight. He was an odd duality sort, so he had to have two sets of clothes on him at all times. "You can't go out in the world naked, you'd be arrethted fathter than I will be fired."

"Sollux Captor." The android muttered, as he pulled on the tee shirt and the jeans he brought. He also had given him a pair of mismatched shoes, which were the other halves of the pairs he had on his feet. "Your name is Sollux Captor, is that right?"

"Yeth. How'd you know that?"

"Your name tag says 'Captor' and you have already given me your first name, it is the most logical explanation. I considered asking if you were Captor Sollux, but Sollux Captor sounded more phonetically appealing."

"Oh." Sollux replied. He'd dealt with androids for a while, and they always had odd ways of figuring things out. He wasn't quite used to it, despite being their programmer. "Anyway. There'th a back door. I'll walk you to it, you jutht need to act like you're an actual perthon if we run into anyone. Don't thay anything. Don't thpeak. Your voice will be a dead giveaway. Altho, keep your head down. Your eyeth are red, ath to dithtinguith you from the living, tho you need to hide thothe, too."

Sollux wrapped an arm around the droid's back, and guided him out of the room. CCR69 moved as if he knew what he was doing, which was a positive thing. He knew a lot, to begin with. He had listened to the instructions, head bent down and staring at the tiles of the floor. The movement of his eyes implied that he was taking in every detail.

Men walked by, but didn't seem to notice the difference. The android blinked and hide his eyes almost routinely if any kind of employee walked by, understanding what the consequences would be to being found out.

As they got to the back door, he pressed his palm against the metal of the door knob, and whispered, "It's like me."

The troll with the lisp had laughed at this, but realized the sadness of the situation right after. "If you were a doorknob, I thure ath Hell wouldn't be rithking my career for you." CCR69 gripped the doorknob, turning it and stepping out of the way for Sollux. He walked past him, and he followed quickly behind.

"Why are you doing this? You don't seem much the person type."

He pondered this question for a few minutes as they got to the curb of the street where the factory was manufactured. "I'm not." Sollux replied, looking both ways to see if anyone was around. "I jutht don't want to go through the trouble of taking your thit apart."

"Thank you."

"Yeah."

"So, this is goodbye? I'm going to go pretend to be alive, or what?"

It was overwhelmingly awkward.

"I gueth, yeah. I didn't really think thith out. Get the fuck out of here, guy."

They stood there, next to each other in the brisk spring night weather, before the model turned to him with a small, barely noticeable smile. "See you later, Sollux," he said, held out his hand, shook it, and walked off. Sollux stood there and watched until he wasn't anything but a blur on the horizon of the street, and crossed his fingers in hope that he wouldn't get himself hit by a car.

Things seemed a little off, but he couldn't put his finger on it. When he returned to his office, he realized that CCR69 had taken the red pen back.


	2. Chapter 2

On the way home, Dave Strider walked past the man on the street corner, tapping with a red pen and blissfully ignoring the world. Four days in a row, now. Four days in a row he had walked by to this exact same occurrence at this exact same area. This wouldn't be odd, had he not seen him at all hours of the day on this exact corner.

He had formed a sort of fascination with this guy, who didn't seem to need to eat or sleep or do anything but tiptaptip that pen on the corner.

People walked by him with their heads turned up, refusing to acknowledge him. Those who did tried to offer him food or money, assuming he was young and homeless, but he always turned them down by not even showing them any inkling of attention.

The tapping was rhythmic, the same repeated beat against the cement every time he walked by. His eyes turned down, focused on the cap. Dave had considered maybe that he had a mental problem, some sort of OCD or autism, but never could put his finger on an exact definition for the pattern.

He was about a block past him, when he muttered to himself, "Fuck it," and turned on his heel. He poked a passing business man on the shoulder, asked if he could have a pen, and walked back to sit next to the Strange Pen Guy.

The man didn't look up, and continued to beat on the ground. Dave joined him. After a few minutes of not being acknowledged, he realized that the guy was tapping with him. If he messed up the rhythm, the stranger would accommodate and make it sound as if there was no fault.

He was good with his beats.

Putting the pen down, he turned to face the man. To Dave's surprise, the man looked up and actually spoke, "Are you finished?" His voice was robotic, his eyes a piercing red, and he realized near immediately what this was.

It wasn't a man at all. It was an android, one of the interactive sorts who had been part of the uprising of technology in their society. Personally, he wasn't a huge fan of the idea, deep routed knowledge of robotics from his brother helping him realize how much of an awful idea it was.

"Don't know. Are _you _finished? Do you ever stop?" He asked the android, who had indeed slowed his tapping to a near stop, "Were you ordered by your master or whatever to sit here and tap for four days straight, some prick who wanted to get his jollies out and see if you actually would?"

"I do not have a master."

Dave rolled his eyes, which were thankfully hidden by a pair of shades. "What's your name?" The droid pinched his brows together at the question.

"I am model CCR69." He said. "Would you like to give me a name?"

He had to admit, he had snickered internally at the number of his model. "How did you even get out here, what happened to your master, did they die or something? Or did he decide he can't keep you anymore, and dropped you off in a basket outside of some sap's apartment door?"

The android didn't laugh. His expression didn't waver at all. "I asked if you would like to give me a name, you did not answer."

"Sure, I don't have anything better to do. I can give you a name." He looked around, trying to figure out a good name for this thing. "Uh." Alright, naming things was a harder task than he figured it would be. "I don't know. You're Captain Dickpenis Anuswrinkle."

The android stared at him. He stared back. The android continued to stare. He wondered briefly if he could see through his shades, and looked away. "I reject that name." The android muttered.

"Rude." He was actually legitimately offended, that name took effort. Only one with superior intellect could think of an anuswrinkle. "If you don't want to appreciate my talent, name yourself." He rested his head on his hand. "Dickweed."

"Karkat." The droid said, and Dave wondered what ass crevice he pulled that name out of. Before he could ask, he kept speaking. "From 'Karkata.' It is the Hindu astrological equivalent of Cancer, minus the vowel at the end, as to make me more masculine. I figure it works with the 'CCR' part of my model name."

"Yeah, that flew over my head. I so much didn't care about that explanation, that I might have flown around and actually have crossed the line back into giving a shit. Congrats, you're that boring." He crinkled his nose, repeating a question from earlier. "Why are you out here without a master?

"Humans have a repetitive memory core, too. How pleasant." Karkat tapped the pens on the ground, "I was waiting for someone to take me home." Well, if that didn't sound sexual, nothing else did. Dave scoffed, and the android continued to speak. "As insufferable as you are, you are less boring than most of these peons. Would you like to be my master?"

Well, that wasn't a question he'd expected. "Depends, what are your rates? I'm a hardworking man with a wife and kids; I need to know what's worth sacrificing my intimacy with my filial life."

The android stared at him, brows furrowing together as he tried to figure out what he meant. Something seemed to click, perhaps literally, and he rolled his eyes. "I am not a prostitute." He put the pen away in his shirt pocket, which was some awful striped thing, "However, I will be able to help with the kids and I'm sure your wife would love a model like me. Though, you seem young to be married. Was it perhaps a teen pregnancy?"

Dave put both his hands up, "I was lying. I don't have kids. I have grubs. Fourteen hundred of them, think you can handle it?"

The droid looked away from him, reaching into his shirt pocket, uncapping the red pen and starting to doodle on his artificial skin. Dave leaned over to look at what he was drawing, and watched as he saw him draw him, fairly simplistically. Then, Karkat wrote the phrase, 'ABSOLUTE BULLSHITTER' over his head.

"That is the shittiest, most accurate drawing of me I have ever seen." Dave nodded to himself, admiring the childish doodle. "Draw a penis."

"No."

"If you want to come home with me, draw a penis. That's an order."

Karkat shook his head, "you're already intrigued. You'll take me home whether I draw a phallus or not."

Well, damn. Dave figured that Karkat was fairly good at reading people. This was a free robot, and growing up with his brother, he was used to artificial men hanging around. None of them seemed this real or had as much artificial intelligence, but he knew the benefits of having a servant around the apartment.

Plus, he took a liking to Karkat.

However, "draw me a penis. Right now. Draw a penis on your hand or you're going to sit here, tapping your pen on the ground for the next four hundred and thirteen years of your life."

The android full on _rolled his eyes_. Whoever programmed and tossed this guy to the trash was ridiculously smart, and he gave him props. Dave reached over, grabbing the pen. Karkat clenched it hard in his hand, and then, they both were holding the pen together.

"If you don't do it, I'm going to do it."

"I'm not going to draw a penis on my hand. This is a most ridiculous situation."

Dave held back his retort of, 'get used to it,' and forced the pen to move. The android struggled against him, but in the end, there was a scribbled penis that managed to be illustrated on Karkat's hand.

"Are you proud of yourself?"

"Yes." He stood up, cocking a finger toward him. The android stood up after him, glaring holes through his skull. "Come on."

They walked in mostly silence on the way back to Dave's shitty apartment, and he finally got to observe the troll lookalike. His horns were barely there, just a pair of small nubs on his head. His eyes were also a piercing red, and they glowed as the night began to settle in. He felt his stomach churn at that observation, but allowed it to pass.

Karkat had hair that clearly wasn't brushed, and clothes that were dirty and ruined by the floor of the city.

Also, his shoes didn't match.

When they finally arrived at Dave's apartment, Karkat easily began to clean up shit that was scattered in the room with a mumble of, "humans are disgusting" under his breath. Laundry, food boxes, crumpled up lyric papers, and went right to work with organizing, without being asked.

Dave shrugged and let him do his thing, sitting on his computer. His pesterchum tab was blinking, the name gallowsCalibrator reflecting off of his shades.

- gallowsCalibrator [GC] began trolling turntechGodhead [TG] -

GC: H3Y

GC: WH3R3 4R3 YOU 4T

GC: YOU W3R3 SUPPOS3D TO G3T HOM3 4N HOUR 4GO

GC: YOU S41D 4ND 1 QUOT3 "have to go kick the tw: bucket for a few hours and make the dough for my economic bakery be back at one or something if i dont come back tell john i love him"

GC: 1 H4V3 TOLD JOHN TH4T YOU AR3 D34D 4ND YOU LOV3 H1M 4ND H3 R3PL13D W1TH TH3 3XP3CT3D R3SPONS3 OF 'duh. now let me sleep, asshole.'

GC: R3ST 1N P34C3 D4V3 1 W1LL M4K3 SUR3 YOUR MURD3R3R 1S BROUGHT TO JUST1C3

TG: you sure know how to make a lady feel like she matters

TG: john too

TG: i am just dripping with the feelings of affection

TG: drowning like people in new orleans every other year under words of heartfelt hurricane love when i disappear for an hour

TG: yeah ok

TG: sry im normally on time always on the dot no matter what thats kind of my deal but guess what

GC: WH4T

TG: i said guess

GC: 4R3 YOU PR3GN4NT

TG: yes

TG: that is definitely the news

TG: i had to stop and cry in the corner for like ten minutes after i found out

TG: it was a traumatic experience thanks for reminding me but on the bright side im going to be in a special on mtv

TG: 16 and mpreg

GC: TH1S SOUNDS 4LL R1GHT 4ND GOOD 4ND 1 4M PROUD OF YOUR ACH13V3M3NT 1N YOUR C3L3BR1TY L1F3

GC: BUT TH3R3 1S ON3 TR4UM4T1C PROBL3M

GC: YOU 4R3NT 16

GC: TO B3 ON TH4T SHOW 1T WOULD B3 FR4UD 4ND 4 GR34T 1NJUST1C3

TG: shit fuck you cracked the infallible humor that i was throwing out there

TG: let it fly over your head so hard that it hit the wall and shattered like taylor swifts heart by

TG: woah

TG: another guy

TG: what a shocker taylor swift nobody could have guessed that outcome

GC: 4S CUT3 4S 1T 1S TO S33 YOU SO 3XC1T3D OV3R YOUR N3W P1NK FL3SHY L4RV4 GROW1NG 1N YOUR STOM4CH

GC: (V3RY CUT3 :])

GC: SP1T 1T OUT

TG: theres a new residence at the strider residence and im not talking about my maternity

GC: WH4T

TG: i brought a guy home

GC: 1 W4S 4W41T1NG TH3 D4Y YOU D1D SOM3TH1NG L1KE TH1S

GC: WH3N 1S TH3 HUM4N M4RR14G3 4ND HOW SOON SHOULD 1 CRY TO 4 SC4L3M4TE OV3R MY N3WFOUND 3MPTY QU4DR4NT

TG: woah no dont worry no matrimony going on here yet

TG: no hes like a robot guy not a real guy

TG: he had no home and he drew a penis for me this is like true robotic/human symbolic soap opera love

TG: we will fall in deep love and i will touch his circuitry right where it matters and you will walk in on it and i will declare to not actually be dave but his evil twin tyrone but today is not that day

GC: SO WH4T YOUR3 T3LL1NG M3 1S YOU BROUGHT 4 HOM3L3SS 4NDRO1D WHO DR4WS HUM4N D1CKS TO YOUR 4P4RTM3NT TO B3 YOUR S3RV4NT

TG: yes

There was no way this wasn't the best idea he ever had.


	3. Chapter 3

In the three weeks he had spent living with the android, Dave had learned to find the whole experience really fascinating. Every day, he had three meals. This was something he had experienced maybe never in his life. Karkat did the grocery shopping and spent less money on a week's worth of food than Dave had previously spent on a day's. His apartment practically transformed from what looked like a college dorm to a relatively clean studio apartment.

It was like having a parent who did everything for him, but asked nothing in return. He was a parent who never slept, and never ate, and never tucked you in before bed. If not for his brother, this might have been abnormal for him. However, he never left the house, either, so someone was always up and about.

This initially put Dave on his toes, because he was half expecting a sword through the chest if he let his guard down.

After a third week, Karkat began to get bored, and started to ask Dave questions. They were odd and unanswerable questions, ones that were common sense for most humans. Menial things like, "What does it feel like when you bump your arm on a table?" to something difficult to answer, "What is it like to dream?"

Eventually, he just pawned off some romantic comedy on him, and Karkat spent the next week renting them and watching them when not doing chores.

Surprisingly, he loved them.

In the middle of the night, he could catch Karkat smiling when two people on the screen managed to _finally _kiss. The plots were always reworked and similar, but they clearly pleased him. It was the only time the android ever smiled, and Dave had wondered beforehand if he possessed the ability to even do so.

Well, good for him. He had a taste for a shitty genre.

Dave wasn't sure if they were meant to have interests other than achieving their base purpose, but his android had things he enjoyed and things he highly didn't enjoy. He had ticks and thoughts about himself and others, and a high judgment against anyone who wasn't him. Hell, he had a high judgment against himself, too.

For example, he decided he disliked his android appearance, and hid near constantly the fact that he was one. He got pretty good at it, wearing hoodies to hide his eyes and speaking in a tone that disguised his robotic voice. The louder he got, the less grumbling metallic noises came from his throat.

Dave got used to the constant shouting fairly easily, but at first it had unnerved him. He'd be sleeping, finally, and then the one guy who had kept him awake for so long by trudging around the house would have to wake him up again. "Get up, Dave. You have work." sounded like, "GET UP, DAVE. YOU HAVE WORK."

Karkat, when out in public, would send actual glares at other models of androids. They had no reaction, no outward care that they were being furiously stared at, and it seemed to make him angrier and more distasteful against them. The more they looked like him, the more furious he was that they just existed on the same world as him.

A few days back, Dave had been sprawled on the couch, when Karkat entered. "I have a question." Dave's attention didn't leave the screen, but he cleared his throat to signify that he was listening. Karkat moved to the couch and sat down on the unoccupied area.

"What blood color would you like me to have if I were a troll and able to bleed?"

Dave answered without a beat. "Red."

They didn't say anything for a bit, watching the screen. It was a shitty cartoon, and Dave watched as the character on the tv laughed at some unfunny joke. He laughed at it, too, a quiet noise under his breath and barely noticeable.

"Am I supposed to feel?"

Dave looked up at him over his glasses; eyebrows raised high into his hairline. "Feel how? Like physically, or something awfully pointless like emotions?"

"Emotions. I have been observing other androids. I react differently." Dave watched him reach into his pants pocket, pulling out that damned red pen again. "They feel no hurt, or anger, or sadness. Those are useless emotions for a bot. They do not get bored, or find individual things interesting. Am I really so deformed?"

Dave sat up, throwing his arms behind his head. "You're a robot." he said simply. "You're not supposed to 'feel' anything."

Karkat put his head down, brows furrowing as he processed this. "I understand. I am not real. I am a malfunction. A mutant." He looked at his hand; clenching it around the pen and watching the artificial veins pulsate a bit. "Fitting."

That's when Dave kicked his legs up over Karkat's lap, laying back on the couch. He was bored with the television. It was Dave's turn to ask a question. "What, do you want to be real?" Karkat froze up at the question and the legs over his stomach, and he put the pen down beside him on the side table.

"Do you?" He leaned his head back against the couch, and pushed Dave's leg off of his own. Then, he rolled his head to look down at him. His eyes were red in the darkened room, the side of his face illuminated by the TV. Dave wasn't scared, that would be a ridiculous notion on all counts.

He might have been a little put off, however. He had his legs knocked off the couch, and used this as an opportunity to flop to the ground to avoid The Gaze. Karkat didn't stop for this, though, and continued to speak. "I asked a question, though it seems you don't have the mental capacity to stay sitting next to someone in conversation, let alone answer a yes or no inquiry."

Dave put his hands up in defense from the verbal assault, and then used them to pull himself back up onto the couch. "I just don't see the point of asking if I want to be real or not. It's not like I'm a silicone implant, I'm all real."

"What constitutes being alive?" Karkat finally asked, after seemingly toying with the question in his head. "Is it the fact that you have a functioning cardiovascular system and a mind that barely can comprehend its full ability? Are you alive if you aren't capable of complete functionality?" Karkat reached over and turned on the lamp. "Or is it the knack you have for being afraid of trivial things, like the dark, or not knowing what it is you'll find inside of it?"

The blonde shook his head at this question. "I'm not afraid of the dark."

Karkat leaned back, flicking the lamp off again without even looking at it. His eyes closed, the room going dark. Then, he wasn't there anymore. Dave's breath caught as his hands gripped at the couch, and then he felt a robotic voice behind him. "What about what is in it? What you'll find?" He doesn't jerk. Instincts from his bro led him to know that showing fear was the worst thing to do in a situation like this.

Dave whipped around, eyes searching for the robot, and then the whisper came again, fingers gripping his shoulders. His body does physically jerk at this sudden touch, and he grabs Karkat by the front of the shirt on his last turn around. "What about what is in it? Is it your pathetic, useless phobias? Is it your vulnerability? Is it your lack of a reasonable thought process, like, hey, maybe I should just go and turn the fucking light back on? Is that what makes you alive?"

He let go of Dave, flicking the light back on once again. Dave's hand is still entangled in the front of his shirt. "If that is being alive, having such easily accessible weaknesses, I don't want them. You can take your life. I'll be an emotionless robot over something as useless as you, any day."

His words betrayed his statement, the seething anger in the back of his throat and the deep set eyebrows show his emotions like a book. He doesn't look angry in his eyes, though, he just looked sad. Hurt. Dave hated it, and he hated the way that Karkat managed to use him as an example.

So, he punched the android in the face. His head recoiled backwards from the punch, and Karkat punched him right back, knocking Dave's shades askew. They glared at each other, red eyes connecting to red eyes, and then Dave let go of his shirt, pushing him forward and away from him, back onto the couch.

He sat down next to him on the separate side of the couch, grabbed the remote, and turned the tv back on.

They both sat in silence, watching the cartoon as it flicked over the screen. Karkat didn't say a single thing, and Dave didn't either. The silence was foreign to them, at this point, and it filled the room like fog. The troll— No, the robot, had managed to cause his nose to bleed. He wiped at it with the back of his hand, and Karkat repeated the action, though no blood was spilling.

Dave briefly wondered if he could feel physical pain, or if that was something that his model had left out. His hands clenched to a fist, his knuckles raw from where his fist had collided with his cheek. The cartoon on the screen danced with light.

The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. Luckily, Dave was used to using a sword.

He cleared his throat. "You didn't scare me."

Karkat scoffed, eyes glancing over at him with a look of absolute disbelief. "You were sweating from your eyelashes."

"Okay, first of all, gross. That's not possible. I'm pretty sure those things are there to protect your eyes, not get sweat all in them. Second of all, you can't even see them, if they even were able to break their commanding line and betray my line of sight." His finger poked forward, pressing into Karkat's shoulder.

Karkat brushed his finger off with a roll of his shoulders, and gestured to the screen. "What is this, anyway?"

Dave glanced at the tv, admittedly not have been paying attention to it at all. "Well, it was The Amazing World of Gumball, but it's the Regular Show, now."

"Oh." Karkat muttered. "It's a piece of shit."

He quickly was responded to with a middle finger, and a mumble about how androids had no taste.

And then the silence was back, but it was less fogged this time. They relaxed, leaning back on the couch and letting their bodies relax. They were done fighting, and they were done with questions. Dave kept his eyes glued to the screen, and Karkat glanced over whenever Dave tried to suppress a laugh. After a while, Dave noticed the stares, and cleared his throat in a sort of nervous but still totally cool fuck anyone who thought otherwise kind of way.

Karkat just grinned at him.

* * *

dave "im not afraid of thE DARK OhOYL SHIT" strider


End file.
